


you know, the thing from the bees?

by gayprophets



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Oblivious, both mama and barclay: oh my god im in love though, both mama and barclay: they dont like me like that all of this is platonic, brief brushes against angst, things that aren't mentioned but i need you to know: mama and barclay are both gnc and bi.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 22:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20919815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayprophets/pseuds/gayprophets
Summary: “So you and Barclay are datin’ now, yeah?” Thacker asks, settling further back into Mama’s pull out couch.She looks up from her sketch pad, nose wrinkled like she’s smelling something terrible. “No,” she says, pencil pausing in its scratching. Barclay’s in the kitchen with one of her records on, humming along and cooking dinner, so Thacker doesn’t get to see his reaction. Shame, because Barclay is a much worse liar. “Don’t be ridiculous.”





	you know, the thing from the bees?

“So you and Barclay are datin’ now, yeah?” Thacker asks, settling further back into Mama’s pull out couch. It’s not entirely an off the wall deduction - he’s known her long enough to know the look she gets when she wants something, when she wants _someone,_ and it doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to see that she’s been applying that look to Barclay. While he doesn’t know Barclay that well, he does recognize  _ lovestruck _ when he sees it, plus the sheets that accompany the fold-out are nowhere to be found, as is his backpack of clothes (he’d refused to allow them to buy him a dresser or to let Mama clear out her linens closet), and when Thacker had glanced into her bedroom earlier, both sides of the bed had been unmade.

Plus, Mama usually gets what she wants. 

She looks up from her sketch pad, nose wrinkled like she’s smelling something terrible. “No,” she says, pencil pausing in its scratching. Barclay’s in the kitchen with one of her records on, humming along and cooking dinner, so Thacker doesn’t get to see his reaction. Shame, because Barclay is a  _ much _ worse liar. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“Uh-huh,” Thacker replies dryly, and she kicks his feet off of her coffee table in revenge.

He waits for her to get absorbed once more with her work - she’s been wrangling in commissions more often now, so most of the time he comes over she’s sketching something or else down at the workshop she rents. He’s happy for her, and she certainly  _ seems _ happier - she hasn’t been the same for a while, not since… well. If he’s being honest, not since their numbers started dwindling. It got worse after Jamie died and Lisette vanished, and since she killed the abomination that’d all but knocked him out of the game entirely, it feels like he’s been watching her disappear in front of him. Retreating into herself, biting her nails bloody, yelling at acquaintances for simple gossip, then going quiet entirely.

He’d never seen her quiet before. It was like something’d gone fundamentally wrong with the universe. 

Anyways, Barclay had been a godsend. It takes more than two people to be a fireteam, especially when Thacker ain’t exactly a crack shot. Thacker could have done without the whole car stealing thing though, but, well. Beggars can’t be choosers. And he’s a damn good cook.

When Barclay seems to be winding down in the kitchen and Mama’s been silently, studiously drawing for a few minutes now, eyes narrowed in concentration, Thacker says - “Heard Debbie’s gettin’ some bees.” He keeps his voice pitched low, so only she can hear it.

“Uh-huh,” Mama replies, not fully paying attention.

“Yeah,” Thacker continues. “She’s gonna start sellin’ the wax as candles and uh -  _ fuck, _ what is it. I’m forgettin’ the word, bee juices -,”

“Honey?” Mama supplies, then makes an incredulous face, looking up at him and opening her mouth like she’s going to make fun of him,  _ “Bee ju-,” _

“Just a sec!” Barclay calls. “Almost done!”

Mama looks at the doorway to the kitchen, mouth agape, then back at Thacker.

“Don’t fuckin’ ever lie to me again, Maddie,” he says. “I swear to God. I will  _ find out, _ y’hear?”

She puts her sketchpad down onto the coffee table gently, tenderly, then tackles him to the floor. She tries to put him in a headlock and he jams his fingers into her side, laughing as she twists like an eel and slaps him on the stomach. 

“Guys,” Barclay says tiredly, standing over them with his hands on his hips, “What.”

“He started it,” Mama replies immediately, letting Thacker go.

“I  _ ‘started it’? _ Are you  _ six?” _ Thacker replies. “I’ll show you  _ startin’ it _ -,”

“I’m going to eat dinner all by myself and lock you  _ both _ outside if either of you start  _ anything _ other than setting the table,” Barclay says. 

“Yes, chef,” Thacker says. 

“Don’t insult chefs like that,” Barclay replies, going back to the kitchen. “I didn’t go to culinary school, they deserve better than me.”

Thacker looks over at Mama, who has covered her mouth with one hand but is still obviously smiling. 

_ “Don’t insult chefs like that,” _ Thacker whispers to her, trying to silence his cackling.

She waves her other hand at him.  _ “Stop,” _ she says, muffled against her palm. “Oh  _ Lord _ he’s so cute. I can’t handle this.”

“You could do worse,” Thacker says, after managing to swallow down his laughter. 

“He could do better,” she replies fondly, finally peeling her hand away from her mouth. “But we're really not datin'. He's just..." she waves a hand vaguely.

Thacker blinks at her. "Just what."

"Nice?" she says, and he can tell she means it to be a statement but it does _not_ come out one. "We aren't fuckin' or anythin', we're just... friends. He don't like me like that and that's fine. He's a sweetheart."

"He -," Thacker stares at her for a long moment. "Just to clarify, you sleep in the same bed 'n call him honey," he says. 

"Yes."

"And you're not datin'. Because he don't like you like that."

"Got it in one." 

Thacker thinks about Barclay smiling like the sunrise at Mama and doing her hair for her as she sips her coffee, the flowers in the vase on her kitchen table that she certainly would never buy for herself, the red flush to his face the time they'd all gotten piss drunk and talked about their sexualities that had nothing to do with the rum. He's _going to kill her._

"I'm gonna kill you," Thacker says, and tackles her again.

**Author's Note:**

> i texted this to diego back in september and just blasted it out in 15 mins because it made me CACKLE when i thought about it again. comments n kudos are as always appreciated! you can find me at themlet on tumblr. #cobbclayisreal


End file.
